


Alike

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:28:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thoughts of Manwë when Melkor is brought before him in chains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alike

I had to force myself to look at my brother’s face when he was brought before me in chains. The form he had chosen for himself was contorted with hatred, cut from rage and fire. Was it freedom that he had wanted? Or to surpass our Father? Or did he simply want to destroy, to wreck, to twist every beautiful thing in creation into his own image?

I did not pretend to understand. I still do not.

But I was required to do my task. I stared down at him solemnly, trying to keep my face kingly and impassive as he was thrown to the ground at my feet. I said the words that would condemn him to imprisonment. I heard myself say them as if looking on from far away.

It had not always been like this.

In the Song, we were both shining and new. He was the greater, the one that should have been King. He had so much promise, my bright, bright brother. What made him choose this path? Could it have been me instead? Storms, great winds instead of flames, tearing across the lands? No, I could not imagine it. Why though? I tried each day to see his mind, and not, I will admit, entirely for the purpose of defeating him.

I never stopped wondering why.

His eyes were dulled when he was brought before me, closed off with sullen hatred. Hatred directed at me. Varda must have seen my pain, or felt it, for she laid a calming hand on my shoulder. The very touch seemed to ease the hurt a little, to provide the strength I needed to pronounce my judgement. My Varda. Sometimes, irrationally, I feared that without her, I would have become like him.

It was I that had to make the final choice, and I made it. Captivity, but with a chance of redemption. It was weak, I knew even then that it was. And the look in his eyes confirmed it, the slight mocking smile, the hint of something bright and burning again, just behind his eyes.

I knew, later, that I had seen it then. I knew I should have condemned him to the Void at that moment, and saved Arda the pain that came after. But I also knew that I could not have done so, not as I was then.

He was my brother, and I had to believe he could return to me. I had to believe I was not like him.


End file.
